The Unabridged Journals of Katherine Houghton Beckett
by likehenrydavidthoreau
Summary: I must say, it's so nice to be in a relationship with someone who knows plays. The other day we had an entire conversation just quoting 'Waiting for Godot'. It didn't make much sense of course, but still. It was awesome. Beckett's journal- updated at least once a week (to correspond with episodes). 6x19 chapter posted.
1. Chapter 1- January 18

How shall I start this?

It's January 18, 2014. My name is Katherine H. Beckett. That's silly, I know who I am. KATHERINE HOUGHTON BECKETT, HEAR ME ROAR, I AM WRITING IN BLUE PEN.

Okay, bad start. Hm... I find myself wanting to give context. I mean, it's been years since I've written in a journal. Even as I write this I'm starting to regret that because there's a lot of things I want to remember about the last few years. Actually there's a lot I want to remember from the last ten years but it's been longer than that since I've kept any record. So future self, you know what happened ten years ago but for posterity: ten years ago (more than that now. Wow.) is when mom died.

Maybe I'll try to catch up on the past as I write this journal. That already feels daunting, there have been a million moments to remember. I'm already dreading the wrist cramps I will get. But for some reason I feel compelled now to start recording my life for the future. This feels important.

Not that this journaling is completely unsolicited- but Castle got me this blank book for Christmas so I feel like I should at least give it a shot. He looks pretty satisfied watching me write right now.

I'm back. Needed a break there for a minute, Castle interrupted.

I guess as far as context goes, Castle is pretty much it. No, that's overstating it, don't get carried away Katherine. To his credit, he hasn't asked to read this yet. But it won't be long, no doubt. Then again, maybe he won't ask me at all. It's one of those things.

Sometimes I worry that my life is all about Castle, and that his is all about me. That's not a bad thing, per se… not sure what I'm trying to say here. To ask Castle for help expressing my thoughts in written form, or nay? Nay. This is between me and the page. He is the professional, I am the amateur. We should both stick with what we know. Ha. Like he ever does that. No, it doesn't really bear thinking about. We both existed long before we knew each other. Before I knew him Castle was a writer, a father, a husband, a son, a rich person. I was a cop, a reader, a biker, a daughter, a person who likes art (there must be a word for that...art appreciator?) We're still all of these things. We just do them together a lot.

I'm not really sure how I can even begin to describe the whole Castle situation so let's start by saying, we are getting married. I'll get to the details later, if ever, of how this came to be. But as I'm sure you remember, future-me, past-me never, ever, EVER would have thought this possible. I'VE GONE INSANE. Okay, no, but it's a little weird, to be honest. Okay, stop thinking about it Kate. But I can't because I'm so FRAKKING EXCITED.

Calm.

How about this past week? Actually forget that, it was way to complicated. Quite terrible- Castle's father and the CIA and people getting killed, and then I had to lie to Ryan and Espo. Sometimes I think I can see in Espo's eyes that he know's I'm lying. It's not to be dwelled on, especially here and now, tucked up with Castle.

Man, being in love isn't half as bad as I thought it was in high school. It's just pure love here, none of that silly tear-your-hair-out drama. I was just spectacularly wrong all those other times, but I guess like most things in life I needed those experiences to get me here. And here is so damn nice.

I'm getting too ambitious. Life history and philosophical reflections aside, I'll just start this off quick by describing right now.

I'm in Castle's room at his apartment. It's about 10:30, it's a Saturday. The door to his room is closed but through it I can hear Martha humming around the kitchen blending something. Speaking of, I must remember to make Dad's snickerdoodles for Castle et al one day. Maybe could tomorrow, I'll have to text Dad for the recipe again. I did tell Alexis I would show her how to make them, and she said she would like that.

It's pretty cold outside, there's been this crazy polar cold front for the last few weeks, it's made working outside absolute hell. I've never gone through so much Burt's Bees so quickly. Anyway it's warm in here, Castle's got those amazing heated floors. It's like surround sound heat, not to mention the fact that I'm under a two hundred dollar goose down comforter, or the fact that Castle sitting next to me is like a personal furnace. He doesn't even need the covers in here. He's kind of sweaty sometimes anyway, he's a much warmer sleeper than me.

I worked today but Castle stayed home, which is why he has enough energy to be up reading but I'm falling asleep already and it's not even eleven. But I'll be up hours before him. It was a slow day at work between cases, just a bunch of paperwork, hence Castle staying home. To be fair he did have a _Raging Heat_ Word document open when I got home but I wouldn't put it past him to have posed with the laptop for my benefit. I guess I shouldn't complain. He's rich, he can do what he wants. No of course I can complain. Lazy ass.

Castle is… no, this won't work. It won't work to just describe him. That would take ages, decades. People are so much bigger than just the skins they live in and I don't even know where I'd begin with Castle. He's an idiot. He jokes too much. He's hilarious. I like his ears. Okay, that's like calling the Sistine Chapel 'nice'. Wow, what a metaphor, Katherine. That's embarrassing. Comparing him to the Sistine Chapel? Not my finest. I shall have to work at this.

Now he's next to me reading _The Silmarillion_. We started talking LOTR the other day and he was extremely embarrassed when I discovered he'd never read it. So naturally he hasn't put it down since. His shoulders look pretty nice right now. Nothing like a man holding a book. Shoulder kiss.

Okay, that's about all I can manage. I just blinked and then spent thirty seconds staring inside my eyelids before realizing I was half asleep. Just the thought of cocooning in this comforter and falling asleep is making me excited, it's extremely snuggly and warm in here. It's been a long day staring at police forms, and that Sancerre we had with dinner is getting to me too. Castle will probably stay up till four finishing that book. One more thing, I just want to remember this: toasty warm, Castle is unwavering in his attention to the book, his reading light is nice and dim like a reading light should be, minty mouth from Castle's toothpaste and a good tired from work, and it smells a little like cherries. Oh wait, that's me. But it's all just good, and I am happy.

To do:

snickerdoodles

call L

drycleaning

Sleep now. Goodnight.


	2. Chapter 2- January 19

_Authors Note: Hello, dear readers. This is an experiment. I am trying- more like striving, flailing along- attempting to capture Kate Beckett's actual voice, because what is more our voice than our own writing? We'll see what happens. Thanks for stopping by!_

* * *

Up this morning and reading in bed, _The Cuckoo's Calling_.

One of the reasons I'm so goddamned reluctant about writing this journal is that there was a time I tried to be a writer. Of course everyone tries their hand at it a bit, don't they, after they read a book they particularly admire? The bizarre part of course is that for me that moment came after reading _Storm Warning_. Anyway it was fun, but I discovered I'm no Shakespeare. Ha, I'm not Richard Castle. That's fine. But this here feels like Castle is trying to make me get all exploratory on my aesthetic side. My aesthetic side is very well developed, thank you very much.

Therefore this shall be nothing more than a memory log so I can look back and remember these moments- just something to jog my mind. Nothing flowery here people, move along.

Anyway, I got up late today by my standards, after nine. I didn't hear Martha out in the kitchen and I guessed that we were all still half asleep in bed. There's something to be said for living alone but when you live with other people and experience mutual Sunday morning lazies- very nice. It's not awful waking up next to Castle either.

When I was a kid I used to love sleeping in. Then after mom died it was like every moment I spent unconscious was a moment wasted, I used to get up at four or five every morning and go running before class. Nuts. I mean, I still like getting up early. But some part of me has calmed, like I'm not desperate to cram an excess of life into a few hours.

I laid thinking on the pillow this morning for a long time and I'm starting to get this excellent settled feeling which is rapidly accelerating into heart-pumping excitement. I know the feeling, I used to get it so often (although more frenetically, more frightening) when I would daydream about falling in love with Castle. Geez, that's embarrassing. Now the excitement is because September is when we will get married. It's not just the fact of being married– I mean, of course I'm excited for that, but I can't help it– white dress, flowers, champagne, hundreds of friends and family– I am getting jittery excited and a little bit terrified about all the attention but Castle says

Im back. Interrupted, by Castle, incidentally.

Perhaps we should invite Nikki and Rook to the wedding. Invitations- also favors, we need to think about those, maybe books? I've always liked that idea. Castle will no doubt want to hand out light sabers.

I jus brought up the idea of light sabers to him and he got entirely too excited, like I knew he would. I never should have mentioned it. Will I ever learn? Maybe in fifty years. Now he has kissed my head and gone to make coffee. I knew there was a reason I liked him. Maybe he will bring me some in bed.

He hasn't, he is luring me out with the smell of espresso. Bastard. I guess I have to get up and get my own coffee. The walk to the kitchen will be the end of me, no doubt.

* * *

I went for a run and stopped for groceries. Castle watched the Sunday morning news. Now he's laughing his face off at _Wait Wait Don't Tell Me_ on our bedside clock radio. It is sunny, who would have thought? Castle's room gets this excellent sunlight. I am back to _Cuckoo's Calling_. Alexis will be here in an hour or two to make cookies. I bought a lot of butter for this.

You want the truth? My heart feels whole, and filled up by life. I'm not sure that's healthy. Just the thought of being broken again makes me nauseous.

Shoulder kiss. I am staring. Now he is staring. It's about to get real sexy.


	3. Chapter 3- January 21

Married in space, married in space, oh, what a place.

Castle wants us to get married in space. He'd do it too, or try to. And then he'd regret it. I can just see him bumbling around in the lobby of SpaceX with a fist full of cash begging Elon Musk to take his money. Good thing I'm here.

I'm thinking… concert halls. Concert halls and Jane Austen novels…. and I HAVE to remember to get Lanie and Alexis together in a room with a dress fitter. Mmm, and I heard Suite bergemasque (not sure if that is spelled correctly) on Music Through the Night yesterday night. Thank goodness Castle left it on when he fell asleep, it was so so sweet. Took me straight into an old movie with two lovers somewhere sunny, pleasant... a river, a walk, bread and wine and cheese. I haven't heard the full suite in years. I remember when I was obsessed with Debussey in college. Listening to Reverie and Moonlight Sonata made it easier to study grisly murders at 2 in the morning without my mind going straight to the obvious places, like mom. But the full bergemasque... few things bring tears to my eyes like that. Good thing Castle was there to hug me back. What a lovely feeling, and so amazing how music can bring on such emotion. I need to start sifting through my classical collection for the wedding playlist. I wonder how much classical Castle listens to. I often hear it playing when he's writing, but how much he actually hears is another question entirely.

Okay. Enough wedding thoughts, Beckett, as if they aren't in a constant hurricane inside your head everyday.

Castle and I officially announced our engagement yesterday to the papers. Or I should say, I did. It already feels like a long time ago... it blew over nice and quickly, and quietly. Ah, what a glorious moment seeing the look on Castle's face when he saw the paper. The utter confusion, stuttering, a man of words, wordless… ha! Poor Castle. If he only knew. He is playing Angry Birds and talking to them right now.

I am NOT enjoying this you know… am I? Fame, I have tasted thee before and never liked thy bitter brew. Of course it's very different now, having to prove something rather than disprove it. I never could resist a good byline, the black and white typeset page. Especially after watching _All the Presidents Men_, whenever I even read the paper I feel like I'm inside that movie. Plus, give me all the young Redford.

I'm glad Alexis showed up at the precinct yesterday although not at all happy at where she ended up with Mandy. She is beginning to show an alarming propensity for getting into trouble not unlike her father. Still, I could tell Castle was happy to see her. Sometimes I think I see her more than he does these days. We hung out for hours last weekend baking cookies but Castle had a busy day of meetings and when he was in and out, she was pretty distant- uncharacteristically, actually. Those two. I still don't think she's forgiven him about Pi, and I don't know if deep down he's forgiven her either. It's so hard to tell. They speak a different language sometimes.

Alexis is in trouble- must be Tuesday!

Oh god, that's horrible. Truly horrible, and now I'm giggling and Castle is going to ask me what's so funny. I definitely can't tell him that, it's bad. You are an awful person, Katherine.

Castle is pretending he is a bird and I am a pig, and throwing pillows at me. I don't have time for this.

Or maybe I do.

* * *

After that brief interruption, we're back. We made a swell dinner, for which Martha joined us- brie, mushroom and spinach quesadillas with fig butter. One day I'm going to take Castle to Paris– or more likely he's going to take me– and I will screw his brains out in the most romantic Paris hotel we can find, followed by a stroll around Montmartre and at least four to five bottles of wine.

I love planning for the future together. I think Castle will be most receptive to my plan.

Just had a strange flash of deja vu related to all this fantasizing– and the amount of times I know Castle has fantasized. I feel compelled to tell him about this plan. There may be another interruption here.

* * *

Alright, it's 10:00. We just went to brush our teeth and then Castle gave me a good-night hug. It was the huggiest hug I've had in maybe, a day or two, quite spectacular. Arms and hands and shoulders, and neither of us seemed compelled to let go. Then I think we remembered that we would be sleeping next to each other in a second or two.

I am once again beneath this impressive comforter and Castle is half-asleep beside me, mumbling something about cherry pie. Hair. His hair is black, and so gentle and nice.

The whole loft still smells warmly of mushrooms and butter for our dinner. Martha told us about how she spent half the day at her studio coaching one student through the _tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow_ monologue from MacBeth. Sometimes I'm a bit jealous of Martha. For all the shallowness of the industry, when you see a good performance that holds up behind the eyes of the person on stage… _she should have died hereafter_. Ah. Mm. We may need to go to the theatre this weekend. I haven't seen _Much Ado_ live since college, which is embarrassing.

Now Castle is snoring quietly, and I'm afraid I'll have to give him a shove to make him stop, that usually works. Yep, it worked, he's just snuffling a little now. The light has just gone out in the loft, Martha's to bed. Castle's awake and trying to wrestle me into his arms. He says he needs a teddy bear to fall asleep with. I must ask him if he thinks of me as similar to a teddy bear. This is making it difficult to journal…..

You and I are too wise to woo peaceably. He loves me back. Good night.

Oh! Comic books! No. No, Beckett. No comic books and no Nebula 9 in your wedding. Okay, _maybe_ the theme music can be played. At the reception. No, stop it.

Note to self:

Enclosed on the last page of this journal is a copy of our engagement announcement.


	4. Chapter 4- February 6

_Author's Note: Sorry it's been a bit, I got extremely busy with school. Still, I enjoy this a lot. Here is the entry– takes place in the week post 6x14. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

* * *

Ah! Journal I've forgotten you. I can't say I'm sorry, it's just been madness at work. Very busy.

I've been thinking a lot about mom.

I don't know if I want to write this stuff… or just think it.

Here are the facts:

I love Castle. I am getting married. Mom will never see this happen. She won't see it, she doesn't know. She isn't here. She's never even met Castle. This whole part of me, she never even knew. I can't

* * *

I know I will never stop feeling some of this bitterness that she is dead. A lot of it I've left behind over the years, and that was not easy. But this is different. It is bittersweet. It's like being angry at nobody and happy at the same time. At first I only thought about the fact that she wasn't right there anymore, she wasn't at the other end of the phone line or a short email away. Now I'm starting to realize how much of my life she will never see. Would she even know me now? Castle will never know her, never see her face or hear her voice. They had the same humor, but not exactly the same. They would have had glorious battles of wit. And she will never know him. His voice, and his hands, his eyes, the way he looks in a purple shirt. She would

She would be proud of me I know, and happy to see this. They are two separate parts of me that may never be able to intersect. But I love both of those parts.

I guess that's okay.

In other news, the weather has gotten no better. My nose almost froze today when we were out on a scene. This weekend I had Saturday off and we went out and bought new fending-off-the-cold wear. Castle bought me the most divine pair of wool-lined leather gloves. He bought a fur bomber hat which he has yet to wear outside- but he's wearing it right now, in bed, just because he likes it so much. He keeps wearing it around the house.

We also spent part of the day at the Museum of Modern Art. That was fun, I haven' t been out doing something nice like that since before Christmas. There was a fascinating exhibit about Frank Lloyd Wright. If I didn't live in New York City I'd want my house to look like one of his- maybe, sometimes they seem a bit crazy even for us. There was also an incredible collection of Gauguin works, but they were drawings, not paintings. It's always amazing to think of what somebody as talented as him did in his spare time. Reminds of of Castle– his novels are his opuses, but in his spare time I see him doodling the occasional poem or writing short scenes that don't seem to belong in any book. Good lord, I still can't believe I get to read that kind of stuff, the bits that don't go in his books. The in-between stuff. What a wonderful world it is, what a gift it is to be part of his process. Working together at the precinct is great, but working in Castle's world is unreal. I mean, his books are FAMOUS. That's so weird. I shall never let him see this– his ego couldn't take it.

He is reading _The Glass Bead Game_ by Herman Hesse. I just read it for the first time a few weeks ago (it took me awhile, it's a long book and I've been busy). Now he's rereading it so we can discuss it. Our room smells very fresh and lemon-minty because he just got out of the shower. I am tucked under the comforter again.

In other _other_ news, I lucked in to a wedding dress. I know, who lucks into a wedding dress, right? Especially a dress that costs more than half a years rent on my apartment. I would say dreams come true but who the hell dreams about this, it's so random.

Did I mention that we're getting married?

Castle left the precinct early today and when I get home he was making dinner. He also had– wait for it– hot toddies ready (in the style of Faulkner of course). Too perfect after a freezing day on the street. Martha joined us and we all warmed up and got a bit silly. Then we ate homemade pizza.

Part of me feels that I should be in overdrive about wedding plans, but a larger part is calmer about it than ever before. Something about Castle just calms things– I'm not sure if it's him, or the feeling that everything seems to work out for him. Maybe not for him, but around him. About him. As long as it happens I won't complain too much. Scratch that- as long as it happens and there's a good red present, I won't complain.

Oh, I can't fool you journal. I have to say, when I imagined my wedding I never imagined having the funds of a rich and famous writer at my disposal. Okay that sounds awful. I don't need to tell myself that I'm not marrying Castle for his money but it certainly is a plus. Let's put it this way, it's a bit kinder: it's nice to not have to worry about that kind of thing. Which is why… our wedding is going to be awesome and fun. A huge party, that's all I ask, with everyone we love dancing into the night with champagne flowing and The Beatles Help playing.

Castle has just mentioned that we should marathon rewatch Battlestar Galactica soon. He is right, though I have no idea how he got that idea from reading _The Glass Bead Game_. That book reminds me of my high school English teacher. What a lady. I should send her an invite.

We are listing our favorite BSG quotes.

"They call me Starbuck, but you may refer to me as God."

"No more Mr. nice Gaius!" - that one is Castle's, of course.

"Nothing but the rain."

Martha's to bed, just heard her leave the kitchen. She seems to always need either A. a late night glass of wine, B. a late night monologue reading in front of the windows in the living room or C. sometimes she just orders Chinese food and stays up half the night working on her lesson plans for acting school. Again, I say: what a lady.

Til next time journal, whenever that may be. You know how it goes. All work and no play makes Kate extremely busy with solving murders and also with planning her wedding. That didn't come out quite how I intended.

Goodnight kiss. Good night.


	5. Chapter 5- February 18

I SWEAR if Castle puts one more Holy Shemp song on the stereo to test out for the wedding playlist I will slap him. I managed to extricate him from the volume control, and now he is busily writing away on his laptop at his desk. I just woke up from a nap (very unceremoniously woken, I might add, by Castle's song tests).

Weird. Yeah. Weird.

Last time I wrote in here I was thinking and writing about all the things in my life that mom will never see or experience and now I'm thinking about all the things Castle never saw in my life, like me in high school or me driving that horrible LeBaron that grandma gave me for my sixteenth birthday. Or the day I got in it to drive to school and found the transmission was just dust. Oh lordy, that good old green car, we had some times. That took me to some fine parties.

I remember that poetry slam so clearly too. Maybe because I drank so much coffee. I don't remember the poetry much though, but I remember thinking it was all very important. Then David and I went out front to the sidewalk and made out when it got too boring– clearly we were very invested in the literary quality of the evening. He wasn't a half-bad kisser. That was so long ago I can hardly believe it. I can't believe that was even me. It seems like I'm looking back at a stranger's life.

But at the same time I know it was me who worked all those hours at Donny's grocery to earn the money for my bike. I can still smell the weird seafood smell of that store. I would have hated Castle so much if we had met in high school.

Now I'm second guessing myself. I probably would have thought the cow trick was too bourgeois but I don't know… I guess it doesn't matter does it?

* * *

Thinking about the cow brought on a burst of laughter so Castle had to spend fifteen minutes describing in depth exactly how the prank went down. Apparently there was a lot of strategy involved including 'borrowing' his friends' dad's pickup truck. I wonder what they did with the poor fellow. Castle says he probably made hamburgers for the dance. Idiot.

I remember junior year when I jumped out the bathroom window at Dale Carpenters party and THANKS GOODNESS the cop there was a friend of moms and he just said 'run!' so I ran. I ran all the way to the subway station, five blocks or so even thought it was the middle of the night and somehow I made it home without getting mugged or tripping over my drunken self. Then there was the time Angelo Baker and I broke into the community pool at two in the morning and went skinny dipping, hoo. Reminds me of that time last summer at the Hamptons….

Off track.

Now that we have decided on a song Castle is obsessively noting down his other favorite songs for the wedding playlist. I've been doing that for months in my head, of course. He keeps muttering things like 'Smashmouth… yes, of course, and Barenaked Ladies, and Sgt. Pepper, at least the first five tracks...'

And how about when we made out in the middle of a teeming hall of body odorous teenage kids? Talk about weird. Ah, fuck it, a kiss is a kiss. Besides then we came home and well… oh, we had a fun time, let's just say. Much more fun than anything I ever did in high school. Awesome sex really is an upside to being a grownup.

But I'm glad he said that about everything leading here. It made me feel so happy. It made me feel right, and like I belong. We've both had such wild lives, in such different ways. I mean, he is rich. Rich and famous. He's had paparazzi and multi-million dollar book deals. But when he was growing up he was alone a lot, studying in an empty apartment with no parents around. He's not soft- I mean, he knows sadness. As I read once, beautiful people do not just happen. He's soft in the right way. Soft in spite of his life, not because of it.

We didn't start out so different. Mr. Rodgers- ha! The difference is I was smart enough not to get expelled. I did my rebelling at poetry slams and behind the gym with Colin Federly.

I'm motherless, he's fatherless… I need a hug.

* * *

Castle was very accommodating with a hug, and then we had a few glasses of wine and some poetry, and then Martha joined us. She brought home some comfort food left over from a seminar at her studio so we ate that for dinner. Then the good part: Martha reminisced about teenage Castle. My sides still hurt from laughing. I can't even describe it, I'm going to start cracking up again. Apparently his getting arrested for borrowing a police horse wasn't the first such nude riding incident. And there was the time he and a few friends decided to rewrite and film Star Wars in his bedroom, and somehow they ended up setting fire to several of Martha's costume's for the play she was in at the time.

I'll have to force Castle to show me some pictures. I can't imagine him looking any different. I mean, he has such a young face. That's because he is really just a six year old masquerading as an adult. And the rest of him well, I don't even need to go there do I?

I have, have, HAVE to call Lanie tomorrow. I've been so busy since Christmas and so has she, we haven't had a proper girls night out in weeks. I know she was all excited about some club Espo took her to. As long as they can give me a gin fizz and a corner table to sit with Lanie I'll be satisfied. And a dance floor, of course. I did hear about a new Spanish-American salsa club uptown. That would be a blast. I bet Lanie would be down for that.

It's weird to think that she's not my best friend anymore. A tiny part of me misses those nights when we used to sit around drinking wine in my apartment looking through the latest Gucci catalogue or watching Star Trek or Tom Hanks films and eating lots of lavender-thyme New York Cheesecake. Those days weren't even that long ago… just a few years. It's hard to remember a time when I didn't know Castle. But he is my best friend now.

I can remember the day it happened too, when he became my best friend. It was a few years ago. Josh had just dropped me off at my apartment after going out to dinner, I remember it was spring and the burrito truck was open for the season so we got steak burritos and sat outside because it had just stopped raining. I went up to my door and realized that I'd lost my apartment key somewhere, it wasn't in my pockets or my wallet or anything. And the first person I wanted to call wasn't Josh, or dad, or Lanie, it was Castle. And the thing is, I didn't even need to call anybody. I just went and got the super and he let me in and I had a new key made the next day but the point is I wanted to call Castle, even though I didn't need help. I just wanted him to know.

That's when I knew he was my best friend. And now, to bed with my best friend. We're fighting off this winter chill well enough in here. Good night.


	6. Chapter 6- February 24

Three people confessed to the same murder, it was like something out of a TV show. We got it sorted out in the end. I thought it might go on forever. I don't usually write about work, it's on my mind enough but WOOF. What a weird, weird case. Truly bizarre.

Alexis is moving back in. She came by this evening and she said she'll be getting all her stuff together by this weekend to move back. Of course Castle volunteered to immediately drive over to her place and help her pack it all up tonight but Alexis talked him out of it. She is definitely the more sensible of the two. She had a glass of wine with us and then Castle started taking every food item we own out of the cupboards and eventually whipped up salmon burgers with some garlicky stuff that is apparently Alexis' favorite. What a guy.

Martha came in from her evening class and I think she was actually crying she was so happy about Alexis coming home. It was strong, the feeling of being a whole family. I can't really describe it, but I haven't felt fully like that since- I guess since before Mom died. Part of a true, real family where I know that it's love that binds us all, not just friendship or social obligations.

It really feels like it paid off for me, talking to Alexis about her situation. It makes me happy to see Castle so happy and the fact that Alexis and I managed to communicate clearly on something like that- it feels important, somehow.

It was garlic aioli, Castle has informed me. It involved a lot of chopping and pureeing and his fingers still smell like garlic. I usually just buy it at the store. Why do people complain so much about kissing people with garlic breath? I love garlic.

It's going to be interesting with her back. I don't know if I'm looking forward to it or not- no, forget that, I am looking forward to it. She is Castle's little girl. I just think of how much dad loves me and that is how much he loves her.

There was a time- between the chicken wing apartment and the one that blew up- where I did the exact same thing as Alexis. When I moved in with Chuck, I was most definitely in the love haze. For god's sake, we picked out purple velour couch covers and we weren't even old enough to buy beer. I still think I chose those to subconsciously force myself to hate the situation. When dad came over for dinner, oh gosh, it was a train wreck, not least of all because he was still in his bad phase with alcohol. Sometimes I imagine it in slow motion, that moment when Chuck accidentally knocked over the bottle of wine onto Dad's best khaki's and then I caught the cheesecake on fire and it all went downhill from there.

There were good times in that apartment, of course. Chuck had that bedspread that looked like a swimming pool with two lanes and we would pretend to have swimming races in bed. He always let me win. I remember his mother's hot chocolate recipe which she claimed had been passed down through generations. It made that winter a little more bearable. Of course there was also the fact that our bathroom was smaller than our bed and the power went out at least twice a week. I wouldn't choose to live in a place like that again but the place wasn't the point. It was us, and we didn't last. I remember those rickety radiators pinging through the night, barely warming our tiny bedroom.

Right now I am under the Comforter of Destiny in Castle's bed, and I am warm. I don't worry about being warm here. Or about us lasting. Or wine, apparently, Castle just brought in an extra nightcap in celebration about Alexis. I don't have to work tomorrow, just on call, so I suppose I'll force it down. The news is over, it's on to classical Music Through the Night.

I've been thinking about saying good-bye to my old place. I haven't been spending much time there but I'll be sad to see it go. It's the last place that was _mine_ and obviously I've sort of made a small commitment with Castle to share our lives for, well, the rest of our lives but that place was sort of an extension of me. I guess any space that is entirely devoted to one human is an extension of them. Maybe that's why I can fit in at Castle's place. It was always a home for more than one. Where am I going to put all my stuff? The painting Dad got me for graduation? My police academy diploma? That pistol pillow that Chuck sent me when he found out I'd entered the police academy?

When I do stay over there it doesn't actually feel weird. I mean, of course I miss sleeping next to Castle. If I have to choose between my bed and our bed with a warm Castle in it then yes, I'm obviously going to choose the Down Destiny and Castle's mattress and Castle. But being in my old place isn't weird, it's just my place. It feels sort of neutral. And a little bit sad, in a very not-sad way, like I know that it's going to be part of the past soon. But if there is ONE thing I've learned in this life, it's how to deal with the past and in this case, I know it won't be a problem. Castle is becoming home. We are becoming my home, not just him, not just an apartment or a bed or a set of interior decorating. Whatever space exists between us, that is home.

As a welcome home gift to Alexis, Castle went out and bought the whole Daredevil Omnibus (which, incidentally, is both mine and Alexis' favorite superhero). Now he's reading it himself before he gives it to her although I may have to steal it. After that cab sav we had, he'll be out like a light in twenty minutes anyway.

Now he's reading aloud. I think the wine is getting to both of us. We're going to act out each character, I'm Daredevil and he's Elektra and/or Black Widow, whoever is in that particular storyline. The Kingpin is closing in. We are giggling madly. Can this last? Of course it can.

* * *

I was right. Castle is snoring (quietly). He's wearing those Star Trek boxers that make me all….

And he's wearing that blue v-neck. Damn. I might actually have to do something to him while he sleeps. Oooorrrrr I might get caught up in this Daredevil arc. We'll see.

Night.


	7. Chapter 7- March 5

Dear Diary,

I missed you. I missed feeling warm, I missed this comforter, I missed our seashells and my bathrobe and the lamp on Castle's side of the bed and

Shit I'm going to start crying again. Shit. Shit.

Think of something else.

Martha made an incredible dinner for me. As she said, facing death demands celebrating life. She brought out her oldest, warmest furs to wrap around me. I could've kissed her. We ate filet mignon and bread pudding. Castle kept looking at the scratches on my forehead and Martha kept catching him looking at them.

There's something particular about the feeling of when I have my head tucked in Castle's shoulder and his arm is around me and we are wrapped together the fullest way possible. When I start thinking about these things I get into these dark, dark moods and I cannot bear the thought of him letting me go, like if he stops hugging me I will soar into an abyss. It's to be expected of course, considering what I went through in the last few days.

It's a bit sad that there's only so close two humans can get. I guess that's why sex exists. Still. I know we're two independent humans and blah blah blah but sometimes I seriously cannot bear the fact that we are separate and not inexorable.

Castle is in the bathroom brushing his teeth and that makes me tremendously happy. He lit some candles and turned back the covers and put on soothing music before he went in the bathroom. It's not like he doesn't do that stuff anyway but I can see him doing it with extra care and there is fear in his eyes, which nobody likes to see. It's awful to look at the person you love and see your own fear staring back at you.

I must stop thinking these thoughts, but of course it doesn't work like that.

Castle's back and we had a very minty kiss- slightly chocolatey too, he's trying out that rocky-road flavored toothpaste. He is putting on his pajamas and now I think I need more than a kiss.

* * *

When I joined the police academy I most definitely had not come to terms with the dangers of the job. But by the time I left the academy, I had. I knew I could die, might well die, in the line of duty. And it's almost happened a fair few times. The traffic chase in 2005. The freezer with Castle. The bullet. The bomb.

I'm not afraid of dying per se, but when I think of all that I would miss it just galls me. The future has always been uncertain for me. I'm not a planner. It's still uncertain, but it's a fantastic, shining uncertain, murky waters which I know Castle will navigate with me. Because he is there in the future, any future that either of us has. At this point he is not a person I could survive without. I could live, but without him I would always be aware of the incompleteness of my life. And he loves me too.

To miss out on ten thousand Saturdays spent reading the paper or eating S'morelettes? Or herding our kids around the apartment or going to book release parties? Drinking champagne? Having sex, yelling at each other about what to make for dinner, discussing books, going to see the new Captain America movie, watching Alexis grow up, solving murders, reading the last Game of Thrones books, drinks with Ryan and Espo…

Thinking of those things not happening makes me want to throw up. And I've just realized that if I'd died Castle would be going through what Dad went through. Oh Jesus, oh fuck, fuck.

It's 2:47 AM. I am awake, obviously. Castle has finally fallen asleep but I'm pretty sure I'm going to wake him up in a minute. I need him awake with me before my breaths start coming too fast and I can't concentrate and I start thinking dark thoughts…

* * *

I made it to morning, in case you were wondering. When I woke Castle up he talked to me for almost an hour, then he went and got the third Harry Potter book (my favorite) and read it aloud to me until I fell asleep. He's no Jim Dale, but I'll take it.

I have the rest of the week off. Not sure that's a good thing- too much time too think. Castle seems determined to fill the time with living. It's barely 8 and he's gone from bed, but I can hear him in the kitchen making some devious kind of breakfast. The font cards from the other day are sitting on Castle's bedside table. I wish he was here to snuggle with me but I suppose since he has hugged for for the last twelve hours I can give him a few minutes break.

I'm scrunched so only my head and my hands are exposed from the comforter. Maybe someday I will leave this bed, but today is not that day. I wonder what Castle has planned for the day. More wedding planning? More fonts, hopefully. We still have a slew of things to do for the wedding.

Martha just brought me a cup of coffee. Slightly unorthodox for us, but I'll take it. Everyone is being very gentle to me and I won't tell them otherwise. My whole soul feels violated and slightly bruised. It's not just that though. No matter how gently I am coddled and revived and brought back to full health by people who love me, they cannot overcome the incredible powerlessness that only I seem to feel in the face of Bracken. He is truly a dragon, a terrible force. What can I do? What should I do? I refuse to lose everything now.

No. I swore to myself and to Castle that I would quit with these dark thoughts.

Castle is here. He made bacon chocolate chip cookies for breakfast and we are eating in bed and becoming giggly with a bottle of champagne. He always knows just what to do. He has vowed to pull me out of bed later for a walk in the park.

Castle told me he loves me and even though I know it I needed to hear it. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me. Sometimes I worry he is going to ask me to stop being a cop. I know Alexis has asked him to stop being one, and I get it. It's not fair for her to watch her Dad almost die. I would say no of course, if he ever asked, but I don't think he ever will. He knows me well, a little too well. He knows me the better for how little I have let out.

Martha just brought us a fresh pot of coffee. It's definitely the champagne talking but this is unimaginably heavenly, like a life that could not be mine. Even when I think back to a year ago when we were sneaking around Castle's apartment hiding our relationship from everyone. Or two years ago, when we hadn't even kissed. I had never hugged him, not really, we had never shared space, shared life, loved each other. It's bizarre. Breakfast in bed, this comforter, this life with cookies and newspapers, Castle, Martha, everything– it's just the best, and now that I know it nothing would keep me from it. Nothing. And I will not let myself die- I won't let any of us die- and miss it.


	8. Chapter 8- March 18

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing, dear readers. I hope you enjoy._

* * *

Today when I got home I found Castle and Alexis in front of the television squealing over the Veronica Mars movie. They were halfway through it when I walked in. There was popcorn strewn ALL OVER the kitchen, they definitely had a popcorn-throwing contest, and ice cream and chocolate sauce and whipped cream all out on the counter, which is apparently their tradition to have while watching Veronica Mars.

Castle spent half the evening glued to his computer, adding more and more details to his ninja encounters. I'm pretty sure by the time he's through he'll have a whole book written about those three minutes. The next Nikki Heat will be called 'Ninja Heat' or something. Good lord. He doesn't want to forget a single moment of it. I think he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.

* * *

Yep, he confirmed it: he has been waiting forty years to be attacked by ninjas. He called it his proudest day. Sometimes I wonder about that man.

While I was in the shower the Ghostbusters theme song started blasting and when I came into the kitchen Castle was dancing crazily around the counter- some of his moves weren't that bad actually- and making three cheese lasagna. He told me this should be our first dance at our wedding and then he started dancing like a chicken, and then like Beyonce, and I almost choked I was laughing so hard. After dinner he showed me how to flambé and we made some peaches poached in brandy for dessert.

After we put the dishes in the dishwasher Castle ran around the corner to the bookstore because he absolutely had to have some new mystery that just came out. He bought me a copy too, so we can read it at the same time. I told him that was silly and a bit of a waste, but what the hell.

We spent some time talking in bed snuggled together under the covers. Castle keeps trying to convince me to try his rocky-road flavored toothpaste, but I'm a firm peppermint proponent. We put on the Beatles White Album and Castle showed off his new boxers which he had custom made. They are printed with book covers and lines of text from his books- from what I could read, mostly from Nikki Heat novels. What a dope. It's a good thing the whole world doesn't know about that and it's just contained to our apartment, that's just embarrassing.

I told Castle about my day at work which included spilling coffee on my keyboard, eating lunch with Lanie at this awesome new sandwich shop near the precinct (I had a caprese crepe, to _die_ for) and settling a score between Ryan and Espo, who were arguing over whether Buffy or River Tam would win in a fight.

There was some sun today and Castle told me about his walk in Central Park and all the people-watching he did. I'm so excited for spring to come (besides the obvious reasons) because I'm ready for some warm weather. I'm ready for some shorts, some t-shirts, some bathing suits. I'm ready for the Hamptons and the beach.

Sometimes it seems like my life is all about work, case after case, and then I remember walks on the beach, or taking a bath in that massive jacuzzi at Castle's house in the Hamptons, or the cookout we had last summer at Dad's apartment complex, or those two hours we spent in that huge candy store in the Hamptons. Oh man, I ate so much cotton candy that day. Or that one weekend we decided to bar hop all the nerdy bars in the city. Castle and I still argue about which one was the best. He stands firmly behind the Way Station (the Doctor Who bar) even though I know the Gotham City Lounge was better. Better drink selection and less people under the age of 25. Generally classier. Of course we always have the Old Haunt which is basically our own personal bar I mean, how cool is that? It's kind of our place. Especially that one booth in th back corner... also, they make really good milkshakes, which most people don't know. Coffee oreo milkshakes. Fantastic.

Right now in bed Castle is on his laptop pre-ordering the Veronica Mars novel that's coming out soon. He agreed to rewatch the movie with me on the next day off I have. Now he's showing me a video of a guy in a wheelchair doing amazing stunts and tricks. I swear this is all he does all day while I'm at work, how does he even write books? I'm convinced he doesn't actually. He's explaining to me now how when he needs to write a scene he sends a special code through his cell phone to a small clan of aliens tasked with infusing earth with literary prowess who telekinetically control his fingers and manipulate his brain into writing brilliant prose. I always knew something was up with him.

Martha was out at an evening class, but she left me a selection of travel magazines on our dresser. I'm not sure if she knows I like to look through travel stories, or if she's making not-so-subtle hints about planning our honeymoon.

I think I'm writing a lot of this down to reassure myself again: we are not boring. Why would I think that? We are happy, nothing is going to change. We were people long before we met each other, people who became more awesome and fun when we came together. I certainly don't plan to stop being awesome, and I don't think Castle does, so there's no reason to expect we'll become boring. It's still a bit intimidating of course, the rest of our lives, but it's also damn exciting. I mean, I talk to Castle whenever I want! We can do stuff together and discuss the new issue of Daredevil together and have awesome sex whether it's a national holiday or not. And we have the rest of our lives to keep having fun.

Now _we're_ having the Buffy-River Tam argument… I don't know how we got here. He thinks River would win but I know Buffy would. I guess we'll have to agree to disagree. But it would be Buffy.

Okay. We've reached an agreement. We both agree that Veronica Mars would ultimately win, she would orchestrate the whole fight and let Buffy and River finish each other off, and she would walk away unscathed.

Before we fall asleep I'm going to give Castle this red rose I bought on the way home. Red roses are so cliche, I know, but nothing says romance like a red rose, am I right? Then maybe we'll make like it's a national holiday…


	9. Chapter 9- March 27

_Hello, dear readers. This one took a bit longer than usual. I hear we have a one month hiatus before the next episode... I will try to post some entries to this story in the interim. Thank you for reading, and have a swell day!_

* * *

Dear dadada-dear diary.

I feel good. Really good. Was it the Shakespeare? The sancerre? The wedding planning? Castle has corrupted me. Well, I mean I knew that.

After dinner Castle and I watched _Much Ado About Nothing_ (the Kenneth Branagh version, tomorrow we're going to watch that new Joss Whedon one with the snorkels and the martinis). One of my ALL TIME favorite plays/movies. Just outrageously hilarious, we were in tears on the couch, although I'm sure the sancerre contributed to that too.

Martha joined us for the end, then regaled us with tales from when she played Hero in _Much Ado_ off Broadway. Apparently she became romantically involved with the actor playing Benedik which almost threw off the groove of the whole production. I can just imagine Hero gazing longingly at Benedik during the wedding scene– ha! There's something so, so good about the dialogue in that play. It's sharp, witty, belligerent and hilarious. More writers these days should take a leaf out of that book... whoops, better not mention that to Castle. Then again, I think even his ego can handle being told he's not as good as Shakespeare.

I used to be in this club in college and we would get together and just read plays, not really act them (the club was called Acting For Non-Actors) we would just read our favorite bits and talk about them. That was really nice, a no-pressure environment like that. Castle and I might need to do something Beatrice and Benedik reenacting later on…

And I must say, it's so nice to be in a relationship with someone who knows plays. The other day we had an entire conversation just quoting _Waiting for Godot_. It didn't make much sense of course, but still. It was awesome. I smiled about that for like two hours.

So, in other news.

Guest list: nailed! Talk about a weight off my shoulders. That's the kind of shitty thing that's been itching at the back of my brain for weeks, absolutely weeks. And I seriously hate worrying about something that's supposed to be so damn happy. But all in all, the wedding planning has been, well, bliss. Every time I even think about the fact that we're getting married... okay, I've talked about this before. My future self will probably look back at this and yawn, but future self, I want you to remember how fucking happy I am right now. It's unbelievable. Two years ago I could not have imagined this kind of contentedness and happiness and the regularity and awesomeness of my sex life. Just try to remember this happiness that is basically bubbling over in me.

What other news is there? It's raining, obviously. It's spring in New York. I've been damp for about a week and a half. Castle bought me an umbrella with kittens all over it which I refused to take to a crime scene (obviously), so he used it instead. It made Espo and Ryans' days, they were chortling until after lunch. The good news is it's finally starting to get a tiny bit warmer. I see Hamptons in my future. I see mojitos and skinny dipping. And also skinny dipping.

Work has been very busy this week. We got to meet Gates' sister, that was wild! I often forget she's a real person with a real life… like Montgomery was. Wow. It's been awhile since I thought about him.

I sometimes don't believe he's dead, the way I forget Mom is gone. Sometimes I come into the precinct in the morning and just… expect to see Roy behind his desk. Where else would he be?

The thing that's most weird is he never saw what became of Castle and I. Good god, last thing he knew we were sort of pissed off at each other. It's just like when I think about how Mom never got to finish reading the Harry Potter books. It's weird, like a slap in the face that the world goes on no matter who is gone. Roy, he probably knew. He could see it, that man could see through a person like they were a glass of white wine. He loved Castle so much too. I wish we could invite him to our wedding. He would've showed off his breakdancing like he did that year at the precinct Christmas party.

Who knew my life would turn out like this, huh. I don't mean Castle… not that that isn't unexpected. Okay, what I mean is, I never thought of myself as that girl– that girl whose Mom died, that girl with the alcoholic father, that girl who fell in love with a famous author. These things just happen and when I think about how wild they are, it's like I'm looking in from a third person point of view. When they're actually happening to me, it's just me, lots of little moments. Maybe I should write a book about my life. Wait a second…

If there's one thing I always knew, it's that when I got married it would be forever. I mean, isn't that the whole point of marriage? Maybe I'm old fashioned. I certainly, never in hell thought I would marry someone who has been married before, let alone has a daughter. I guess that's the kind of the thing you don't really imagine when you imagine falling in love. I suppose it wasn't so simple at the beginning with Castle. Who am I kidding, simple? I despised him. Loathed him. That song from _Wicked_ perfectly describes how I felt about him: unadulterated loathing for his face, his voice, his clothing. Now… adorable face, sexy voice, sexy clothing, sexy without clothing….

It's the sancerre talking, I know it. It makes me all... well, you know how it makes me.

Okay, it's getting late. Castle has arrived from his shower. I've been tucked in with my laptop reading The New York Review of Books. Now Castle is scouring through his dog-eared copy of _Much Ado_ picking out his favorite lines. I know mine already:

You and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

Good night.


End file.
